I didn't plan to say it; it just came out. Ever notice how often we say things we didn't plan to say? Perhaps not. It may be a Genome thing. So many things I do are influenced by the Genome DNA.
Wonder took a break from her Brunswick Community College program long enough to sip her latte. "What did you say about regrets?" she asked.
"A day without regret is a perfect day," I said.
"I suppose so," she said. "I don't think I have any big regrets--do you?" she asked.
"Regrets?" I said. "I have a few. But then again, few worth mentioning. As a young man, I hoped to travel cross-country to San Francisco. That city was a mecca for young people in those long-ago days."
"Why San Francisco?" she asked.
"It was a troubled time in our country, but the allure of that one city promised a new and better world." I paused a moment, reminiscing about the comfort those promises once brought me.
"I haven't heard about that trip," she said.
"I didn't go," I said. "It's hard to say why. When I share that dream with others, I often say I didn't want to travel alone. It's a perfectly understandable reason but I'm not sure it's the real one."
I continued to think about regret and the few that haunt me. Most of them are not truly troubling, but they do nag at me. Perhaps it's the thought that some of my dreams are no longer possible--another kind of loss that comes with age.
One of my biggest dreams is to make the all-American road trip. This journey involves driving from the East Coast to the West Coast and back again, taking a different route for each leg of the trip.
I was ready and willing to do it for most of my adult life and yet, believe it or not, I kept waiting for the 'right time'. In the end, I waited for a lifetime. I don't think I could make that trip now.
"Sounds like too much time in a car," said Irv. I probably should have mentioned that after breakfast, I drove into Wilmanwood and met Island Irv at Caffe' Luna.
"I love exploring the country by road. You can learn about how people enjoy their coffee and what they do in their spare time—little details like that. Everyone has an interesting life, and America is full of fascinating places."
He didn't say anything. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and smiled as if to say, It takes all kinds.
"The love for travel across the country is a significant part of the American spirit. Consider the covered wagons that journeyed from east to west in the 19th century. Today, there are numerous books, songs, and movies that celebrate road trips, with many more using the journey as a backdrop for their stories."
"Like Thelma and Louise," he said.
"Exactly," I said, "and Little Miss Sunshine and .It Happened One Night, and Blues Brothers."
“Blues Brothers isn’t really about a road trip,” he said.
"Trust me," I said.
"I'm not so sure," he said.
"Let it go," I said. "it's like Die Hard is a Christmas movie and it’s not a Christmas movie. Blues Brothers is like Die Hard.”
"What?" he said.
"Too-may-toe, too-mah-toe," I said.
He said nothing but he gave me a look that I've never seen before. I'll need to consult my book on non-verbal communication for the interpretation.
"Think of all the books," I said. "Books like On the Road by Jack Kerouac, and Travels With Charley, by John Steinbeck, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig."
"Are you sure Pirsig is the right name?" he asked. "Doesn't sound right." We eventually got it sorted out but only with the help of a second coffee.
If you regularly follow my thoughts on The Circular Journey, you're familiar with my strong urge to travel. But, as I get older, I question my ability to meet the physical demands. Will my vehicle be able to keep up? I ask myself.
When I refer to 'vehicle,' I mean both my body and Wynd Horse--I think of that car as more than a means of transportation. I question whether I want to make a long trip in any other vehicle.
Having said all that, I'm no closer to knowing how to deal with this particular regret. Fortunately, Ms. Wonder will fulfill her obligation to make the world a better place at the end of the year and we’ve planned an extended road trip together.
Our intention is to cruise up the Eastern Seaboard all the way to Quebec City. The plan has become my dream trip, one intended to mitigate the regret over not driving to San Francisco. You see, regret is something that feels like a loss to me and I've had my fill of losing.
Oh, well, not everyone should be expected to enjoy sitting in a car for hours on end. And you may be one of them. If you must make a long drive this year, I hope you will have a surprisingly good time. On the other hand, if you're a veteran roadster, then I wish you an unexpected happy surprise outing.
If Life doesn't have a road trip in store for you this year, I wish you a year of living with no regrets. A year without regret is a year in which every day is a perfect day.